Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
by AngelZash
Summary: Ed is severely wounded in a battle, leaving Roy to wait and hope he tell him something he regrets never having told him before.


Rated: PG-13/R (Just in case)

Pairing: Roy/Ed

Warnings: Battle scenes, possible death of a main chara

Summary: Ed is severely wounded in a battle, leaving Roy to wait and hope to tell him something he regrets never having told him before.

Notes: Well, this an angsty little piece. I'm afraid to comment on it though, cause I don't wanna spoil it. As it is, I'll just say that it very nearly ended differently, though still Roy/Ed of course. I just hope this piece came out as emotional as I wanted without destroying the characters. XD

Oh and I got the title from the song by Elton John. I thought it kinda fit! ^_^

RERERERERERERERERERERERERE

If there was ever a time Roy felt regret, then this was quite possibly it because he'd never said _anything_ but lies and diversions and words that had to be said but held no true meaning. And now… Now he could lose his chance to say the words that did hold meaning—that he truly meant with all his heart.

Ed lay in his arms, achingly unmoving except for the blood that still poured out of him. His chest, bloody and torn, still moved, but barely. Roy couldn't help thinking the crimson-soaked cloth and jacket that he pressed to the long jagged wounds were simply too heavy for Ed, but he knew that Ed really would die if he gave in and ripped them off.

Around them, the battle raged on, oblivious to one man dying when hundreds more had already died and hundreds more would perish before this coup ended. It was almost humbling, and entirely enraging to Roy, that anyone should not notice the bright sun that was Edward Elric fade into the realm of death.

Ed was their hero! He was the one who had brought word that something was indeed going down, though he had no idea when or where or how. It was because of him they were as ready as they had been when the enemy troops had come marching up to the South Headquarters alongside the rebels, the self-proclaimed Army of the People. Roy had only been meant to stay a few days with the Fuehrer, but they had gotten the Fuehrer to safety just in time while Roy remained behind to distract their enemies.

Nobody was sure when the terrorists had managed to make contact with Aerugo. No one had seen them deviate from Fotset, where Amestris and Aerugo usually fought their battles over the border. But come they did to South City mere hours after the Fuehrer had been carried off to safety.

And they had brought chimeras.

These chimeras were particularly fast and agile. Their skin was tough, tough enough to even withstand a bit of flame, and their attitudes were both focused and murderous. Bullets did little more than enrage them and nothing to deter them from their target.

They had come after Edward, who had refused to join the Army of the People. Apparently, even being known as the Hero of the People was not enough to protect him from the stain of Amestris's army now. They had fought, Edward and Roy together, taking down the pack of chimeras one by one until there had been none left.

Roy would never forget what had happened next.

Ed had turned to grin triumphantly at him, his gold eyes sparkling like true polished gold in the hazy sunlight, and then his expression had slowly morphed into one of horror as his gaze locked onto something behind Roy. Roy had whirled, his gloved hand coming up to snap, but a blur had streaked out of nowhere to snag the fabric, ripping it to shreds about his fingers. He brought up his other hand, whirling again to bring the chimera back into his line of sight, but he was too late. Teeth sank into his hand, breaking bones and slicing deep.

Despite the pain that had him screaming in agony, Roy got a good look at it as it hovered on his hand. It was impossibly small, no larger than a kitten, with a long razor sharp beak that resembled a sword crossed with a shark. Layers of equally sharp, pointed teeth lined the inside of that beak, and Roy had gotten a good look at every single one as it detached and darted away. He'd barely stumbled back when it had come flying at him again, this time its nose closed and pointed straight at his heart.

Then Ed had been in front of him, and Roy was sure nothing would ever be the same again. That beak hadn't just been hard; it'd been diamond hard and aerodynamic. The chimera had become sharper than even a bullet could be, and it had pierced straight through Ed's automail blade. The rest of the bird chimera had been just as aerodynamic and as fast as the hummingbird that Roy knew had to have been used in its creation. It was going too fast to stop and had slammed head first into the flat of the blade, shoving it back against its owner and impaling Ed on its sharp beak.

Roy had fallen back with Ed, catching him in his arms. The world had slowed as they went down, Ed's astonished grunt echoing in Roy's ears. The chimera, as tough as its fellows had been, pulled back and out of Ed, ripping an even bigger hole in the blade, though thankfully not the flesh.

Somehow, Roy had managed to dart out his good hand, catching the beast and snapping a wing. It had screamed its pain, twisting in an attempt to be free and catching Roy's arm. On reflex, his grip had loosened and the chimera had broken free, only to fall down into the dirt beside them. Ed's arm had snapped out once more and had severed the beast's head from its neck.

With a glance at the chimera that only lasted long enough to be sure of its death, Roy had looked down at Ed and frantically tried to rearrange them both so that he could start ripping away at Ed's shirt and jacket. He had pressed the strips down into the wound to try and stop the bleeding and looked frantically around for more, calling, _screaming_, for help. The blood had still poured out. Roy had stripped off his own jacket and begun pressing and folding it into the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding.

"You okay?"

Ed's voice had been weak and sounded vaguely bubbly. A moment later, he had coughed, hacking up bits of blood that still had Roy's heart racing in fear.

"Fullmetal! I'm fine! You idiot! Why did you do that?"

Ed had smiled at Roy, his golden eyes no longer resembling true gold, but a cheap imitation that had dulled with time. The sight of them had sent chills of panic racing down Roy's spine.

"C-Coul—" More hacking. "Can't be Fuehrer…if you're…d-d-dead."

Ed had panted the words more than spoken them and had dissolved back into racking coughs. This time, when they had subsided they had taken his consciousness too.

"Ed? Edward!"

Ages passed as Roy held Ed closely to him, desperately screaming for a medic. The scent of blood and gunpowder threatened to smother him, but not even the sounds of the battle raging around them could drown out the frantic beating of Roy's heart or the desperate thoughts that clattered through his mind.

This should have been him. Why wasn't it him?

Finally, Hawkeye and one of the field doctors came running over. The doctor reached for Roy's hand, but Roy shook him off.

"Fullmetal's worse! Can't you see that?"

The doctor looked at Ed and then back at Roy sadly. "He's in too—"

Roy's good hand was wrapped around the doctor's throat before even Roy had time to realize it was moving. The doctor gurgled to a stop as he stared wide-eyed and terrified at him.

"Sir!" Hawkeye gasped, as much as she ever gasped, behind him.

"Don't even finish that thought. Fullmetal will _not_ die. Do you understand me?" Roy's voice was the sound equivalent of the hummingbird chimera's beak, hard and sharp, unyielding to even death itself.

The doctor swallowed as hard as he could in Roy's tight grip and gave a small, terrified nod. Roy let him go and the pale, shaking man got to work on Ed, deftly lifting the makeshift bandages to peek at the damage before calling out orders to a medic that was just arriving.

"Sir. General McIntyre is requesting that you use your special skills on the attacking forces. Will you—"

"I need a new glove," Roy interrupted Hawkeye more sharply than he'd intended. "And something to clean my hands up with."

He stared at Ed as Hawkeye rushed to comply. The doctor was pulling and pushing at him, taking his vitals and working fast to save him. It felt wrong, horribly wrong, to go off to a battle without this man at back or somewhere beside him. He'd gone to war in Ishbal without him, but he'd had Maes then. And he hadn't known what he was missing. Without Ed, there was no light to see him through and lead him back.

That beak may have pierced Ed's chest, but it was Roy's heart it had skewered. And now, Roy realized as he watched Ed be bundled up and hurried away on a stretcher, his heart was being broken in two.

Hawkeye returned then, holding a damp cloth in each hand.

"Let me, Sir," she told him as she gently reached out to enclose his uninjured right hand in the cloths. She scrubbed it clean, careful of the scratches that had been left behind, and then pulled back to wait for his other hand.

Roy hesitated a moment, knowing this would hurt and knowing he had to do at least this or risk infection, and held out his hand. Hawkeye bathed this one even more gently than the first, but he still had to grit his teeth against the pain. Roy thought of Ed, bleeding and dying on a surgical table, and held himself steady.

If the Army of the People got their hands on Ed, they'd kill him outright. Roy had to be strong and fight. His subordinate had saved him, and now Roy had to save him. Then, and only then, would he be worthy of the chance to tell Ed what he should have long, long before this.

Because he knew now that he had to tell him. This agony of possible loss had been made so much worse by that more common pain of never having spoken.

And so he bore the pain as Hawkeye began to wrap his broken hand, his voice never even trembling as he said, "After this, order the troops to pull back, away from the enemy. Then go tell the General, loudly and clearly so any spies can hear, that the Fullmetal Alchemist has fallen with the Flame Alchemist." He gave the Lieutenant what he suspected was less a reassuring smile and more the look of a suicidal killer. "After that, stand ready for the light show."

Hawkeye froze for a moment, real fear hovering in her brown eyes before she finished tying off his wrapping gently. "Aye, Sir." She held up another glove and silently slid it onto his good hand. "I'll be going now, Sir."

Roy nodded and watched her run off into the hazy, smoke-filled battle zone. South Headquarters had been built to be like a fortress, despite not having any high walls surrounding it. This unfortunately had allowed the enemy troops to surround them even as it helped them defend themselves. However, it would also now help Roy.

He started off quickly for the back right corner. If he remembered correctly, that was the point furthest from the highest ranking officers, and so the least expected place for him to begin his special brand of offensive. He kept to the low stone wall, using it and the shrubbery by it to hide it as he moved to where he would begin.

Retreating Amestris soldiers stared as he passed, but never for long. That would have been deadly to them both. Thankfully, they also moved quickly out of his way. Finally, he was at the entrance gate, broken and in pieces from the battle that had just been raged by it. Soldiers lined it and Roy got one after the other's attention as he crept outside to take up residence in a concealed nook.

"All the men are inside and awaiting orders, General Mustang sir."

Roy opened his eyes to see a colonel slightly older than himself kneeling on the other side of the gate. He nodded and closed his eyes again.

"When I step out, give me cover."

"Yes, sir!"

The colonel began barking orders, but Roy ignored him. He blocked out everything around him, picturing only Ed. Helpless, dying Edward. He had to do this for him. It wasn't like Ishbal. These men were attacking them and they weren't innocents. They were soldiers, and they were men who would kill Ed. And without Ed… Without Ed, Roy knew that not even the literal sun up close could light his way home again.

Roy opened his eyes, stepped out, and snapped all in one smooth, quick movement.

Screams and explosions rocketed through the air. He aimed for tanks and trucks and explosives as well as concentrations of enemy soldiers. The faster he got this done, the sooner he could return to Ed's side. Where he belonged.

It had taken a great deal of systematic and strategic snapping to do it, but the advancing army had finally been routed. South City's soldiers were mopping up and chasing them back to Aerugo's border. Those left behind were rounded up and imprisoned, if they were alive and mostly unburned. The vast majority of those left behind though were long since dead from their injuries.

Roy, meanwhile, was making his way back to the infirmary as quickly as possible. He'd cited his hand and the few other grazes he'd taken while decimating the enemy, but the truth was he wasn't that badly hurt. He just wanted to get to Ed.

The closer he came to the infirmary, the more wounded and the more badly wounded men he came across. The infirmary built into the South Headquarters wasn't meant to aid the victims of a large battle, but the hospital had been cut off from them early on and they still hadn't managed to clear a safe path there yet. So for now, the hallways nearest the infirmary would have to make do as an emergency extension.

"Medic," Roy barked hoarsely at a passing Sergeant wearing the battlefield medical insignia. "Where's the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The man stopped, at first looking to be totally rushed and fully annoyed until he noticed who it was he was talking to. Then the man paled and snapped a perfect, if hurried, salute.

"Sir! Major Elric has his own room: the Head Nurse's office in the main infirmary."

Roy nodded and gave him a crisp salute with his good hand in reply. "Thank you, Sergeant. If you see a nurse or a doctor, tell them I would like to see Major Elric's physician as soon as possible in his room."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"That's all then," he dismissed the other wearily, already starting back up again.

He felt the other's eyes on him as he moved, the question he desperately wanted to ask turning his stomach sickeningly. He forced himself to stay quiet though. He had to get to Ed. He could get seen to after that, but he had to see the other first to know he was alright.

Roy was nearly there when Hawkeye and another doctor waylaid him in the hall. He narrowed his eyes in a bitter glare at Hawkeye, but it was a lost cause. By now, she was immune. The doctor too had an immunity that Roy was sure came with his license to practice medicine. Neither of them appeared in the slightest bit worried that he would roast them alive.

"This way, please, General Mustang," the doctor said calmly in a rough, tired voice. "I want some x-rays of that hand. We can see to you more in Major Elric's room."

Hawkeye gave Roy a rare tight-lipped smile. "He's not going anywhere for the moment, sir. And he'd be the first to yell at you if you don't get that taken care of before seeing him."

Roy frowned at her, but he knew she was right. He hated to admit it, especially when he knew he wouldn't feel comforted by simple reports of Ed's health. He had to see the man for himself.

"Right this way," the doctor told him, stepping to the side and indicating a room beside the main infirmary.

Roy pushed down his impatience and walked quickly inside.

The next few minutes seemed like an eternity as his hand was turned this way and that, twisted around for more and better angles. The doctor did most of the work himself, probably knowing instinctively that Roy would have lost patience and left early with anyone else. Roy felt as though his arm had been been replaced with a thing born of agony with all the pain the x-rays brought. To make it worse, all he could think about was how he needed to get to Ed. The memory of Ed broken and bleeding in his arms repeated itself over and over in his mind, driving him nearly insane with impatience. The thoughts made the time drag by slowly, but finally it was over.

"Well, General, I'll have a nurse tend to your hand in Major Elric's room as soon as one is available," the doctor said coming out of the booth with the x-ray controls. "If you'll excuse me now however? I'm sure you know the way."

The doctor nodded politely at Roy and then turned to march out of the room, the slides of undeveloped film in his hand.

With barely a glance over at where Hawkeye stood waiting by the door, Roy stood and made his way swiftly from the room. This time, no one got in his way. One nurse glanced up from bandaging a patient's head with a dark glare already on her tired features, but Roy could see sense rule out her anger as soon as their eyes met. She went silently back to her task and Roy sailed past unassaulted by righteous nurse anger.

Ed's room was tiny and made even tinier by the desk that his mattress lay on. The furniture had all been pushed to the side and the majority of the remaining open space was taken up by machines and drips that were all hooked up to the blond man that Roy had never seen so still and pale. Only the blood spatter that had somehow escaped being wiped off his skin gave Ed any color at all. It almost seemed to Roy that the other man's light had gone out. He could already feel the despair welling inside him at that thought.

Roy moved into the small room, letting the door swing closed behind him. He walked slowly over to stand beside Ed and then stared silently down at him. Up close, Ed looked even worse, with dark circles under his eyes that emphasized the lack of color in his cheeks. The blanket was pulled up over his chest, but it couldn't hide the swathes of bandages that wrapped around Ed's chest.

Flinching slightly, he reached out, but stopped just before he could touch one particularly large bulge right about where Ed's heart would be. Roy shut his eyes and fisted his hand for a long moment. When he opened his eyes again, he moved his hand slowly up to brush back Ed's hair.

He felt warm, but dry, which Roy guessed was probably good despite the warmth worrying him. His skin also felt soft and smooth, much more so than Roy would have expected from someone who led the life Ed did. Not that it mattered. It wouldn't have changed a thing if his skin had felt like boot leather, though Roy did have to admit it only made him feel worse that Ed had been reduced to this. And all because he was saving him.

"Why?" Roy's voice was soft and gravelly. He tried to clear it and ran his hand back over Ed's forehead again before pulling it back to fist at his side. "Why did you do it? You should have left me, you idiot!"

He shut his eyes, feeling the pain of that moment all over again. It coursed through him like the fire he had just controlled earlier in the battle. This fire was an uncontrollable inferno now that it had burst free. It brought the tears to his eyes, and Roy brushed them away, wincing as a new pain from his broken hand sparked. It paled in comparison to the fire that still burned through his veins and behind his eyes, but he dropped his hand anyway.

The door flew open with a bang behind him and a nurse walked briskly in, mumbling to herself as she juggled bandages, medicines, and various other items that Roy couldn't immediately identify. She looked over at him, her face set in a mask of haggard weariness until she saw him. She paused for a moment, visibly shocked. A couple bandages tumbled down out of her arms without her notice.

Roy sighed and moved to pick them up with his good hand. He felt her eyes on him as he bent down and captured the bandages. Luckily, he managed to catch them in his fingertips, picking them carefully up and turning to place them on Edward's bed.

"Thank you," the nurse finally said. Roy glanced at her again, not entirely convinced the hoarseness of her voice had come from overuse. "I'm Nurse Roberts. Why don't you sit down in the chair behind the desk? I'll be right with you when I've finished taking care of Major Elric."

Roy nodded, not telling her that he wouldn't have stood for being cared for before Ed anyway, and moved around the desk to do as he had been told. The chair that he pulled out was small and could barely be called an office chair, but it served its purpose well enough.

"How bad is he?"

Roberts glanced over at Roy before answering, "Not as bad as he could be. The chimera just missed doing any major damage. If it had been any larger or even another centimeter in any direction… As it is, he lost a lot of blood and will have to be hospitalized for at least a few days."

Roy flinched and looked back at Ed's pale face, once again silently berating the young man for what he had done. He closed his eyes for a moment and then asked the question that he had to have a straight answer to, no matter what else was said that day.

"Will he live?"

There was a pause as Roberts looked to be considering both Ed's pulse as well as her answer, and then, "It looks like it. The cut appears to have been clean and the bleeding seems to have stopped. They had to do surgery on him during the battle, but we've given him antibiotics to ward off infection. We think he'll be okay as long as they are no complications. He won't be up to much for a long time though."

Roy breathed a heavy sigh of relief and gave her a smile finally.

"Thank you… He saved my life with that stunt." Roy looked back at Ed's pale face as he spoke, barely noticing the fond smile that was beginning to creep over his features.

"He must have thought you worth saving," Roberts told him. She began checking Ed's medical drips. "He's a brave soul though. Is it true that he joined up when he was only thirteen?"

"He was twelve, actually," Roy corrected her, letting the pride he felt at Ed's achievements creep into his voice. "And he's done so much more since then."

"Yes," she agreed. "He saved us all. First by warning us and then by saving you so that you could save us all."

Roy scowled, looking away as the warmth and relief he'd felt thinking about Ed's recovery and achievements was chased away by the sick knowledge that this young man was worth twenty of him and had almost died saving him anyway. He struggled for a moment to control the nausea that roiled in his belly.

"No," Roy said.

Roberts glanced at him, but didn't comment.

The next few minutes were spent watching as Nurse Roberts, a pretty young blonde that Roy would have certainly gone for even a year before, pulled back the covers and checked Ed's bandages, changing them efficiently and quickly, pausing only long enough to inspect the dark purple and black area where the chimera's beak had pierced and to listen to Ed's lungs. Once satisfied, she tied the bandages back up and pulled the covers up to tuck them under Ed's chin.

"Now you, General Mustang. That hand of yours is going to need casting. It has quite a few nasty breaks," she told him in a stern voice that brooked no argument.

Roy frowned at her, but held up his hand for inspection anyway. He was startled to note, now that he was bothering to notice anything not related to Ed, that it had swollen to about three times its normal size. The nurse's much smaller hands closed over it, gentle and cool as they moved on the inflamed limb.

"Poor thing," she murmured, laying his hand down on Ed's stomach. "Just hold on and I'll have that splinted for you. You'll have to get a cast put on it later when we can get to the hospital. I'm afraid we've already run out of plaster."

Roy nodded, remembering the screams and cries of the men he'd passed as he'd moved around their perimeter attacking the enemy. Some of them had looked worse than Ed, and many he had been sure would need automail in the end. Plaster casts would have been the happiest of remedies for those men and women.

Roberts did her best not to hurt him as she splinted his hand with a small wooden splint and then bandaged it, immobilizing everything from the wrist to his fingers. When she was finished, not even the tips of Roy's fingers showed above the crisp white of the bandages. Roy stared at the appendages, bruised from their hand's injury.

Suddenly, a hand with a pair of large white pills was thrust under his nose, prompting Roy to blink up at Roberts. She smiled at him again and gave the hand holding the pills a jiggle. In her other hand was a small paper cup.

"Pain pills," she told him brightly. "They'll help with both the pain and inflammation."

"Where did you get the water…" Roy asked, taking the pills and popping them in his mouth. He took the cup and drank the water, swallowing hard to get the pills down.

"Brought it in the flask," she pointed to a small flask that would normally hold alcohol. Roy hadn't noticed it before, but then he hadn't really been paying attention. "I'll be going now. When you get tired, just let us know and we'll find somewhere for you to lie down for a while."

Roy nodded and sat back in his seat.

Roberts eyed him for another moment and then sighed before hurrying out.

For a few minutes, Roy didn't do anything. Then he reached out hold Ed's hand tightly in his.

"Did you hear that, Ed? You're going to be fine. You'd better be fine. I still have something I want to tell you."

Even to Roy his voice was weary. He blinked slowly as he noticed it, and then realized the room was getting fuzzy around the edges. He shook his head to clear it, but it didn't do much good.

"I think I'll take a little nap, Ed," he said, his words slurring only slightly. "Wake up with me?"

He laid his head down on Ed's side, careful to avoid hurting him, and let sleep wash over him.

Roy wasn't sure what woke him, nor was he sure how long he had slept, but he did wake to find that Ed was as still as ever beneath him. A blanket had been thrown over him though, and it fell off as he sat up. He looked down at it and back up at Ed. He let his gaze slid slowly around the room. It was darker than it had been, but nothing had been disturbed or changed.

Then a low sound, a soft moan Roy realized, penetrated the gloom again. His eyes shot to Ed, this time noticing a grimace on his face.

"Ed?" Roy shot to his feet and leaned over him. "Edward! Can you hear me? Wake up! Wake up!"

"Nnnngh! I am…" Ed moaned, his eyes blinking open. Waking up seemed like hard work to watch Edward just then. "I am…awake. Where…?"

"You're in Headquarters, the infirmary. They haven't had a chance to get all the patients moved over to the Hospital," Roy told him, relief flooding him.

Ed gave an irritated huff. "Sick and at work... They'll think I actually like this job."

Roy laughed, but found the laughter was getting a little stuck in his throat. "You shouldn't pull such insane stunts then, Fullmetal."

Ed slitted his eyes at him, looking as though he was considering Roy carefully. "You alright? I thought that thing was going to kill you."

Roy felt his smile slip and he struggled to hold it in place.

"No. No, you stopped it in time. My hand's broken, but I'll be alright."

"What happened then? You sound like you're about to cry. Hawkeye?"

"She's fine," Roy said, his voice only slightly choked. "Why? Why did you do it?"

"I told you," Ed hissed as forcefully as he could at the moment. It sounded breathy, as though he couldn't catch his breath. Looking at his chest, Roy realized it must hurt to even breathe just then. He was breathing in short little bursts of air, pulled in fast and let out just as fast. "I thought it was going to kill you! I thought—I thought my—my automail would—would stop—"

"I know," Roy stopped him, squeezing the hand he still held. "It went straight through…"

Roy shut his eyes, but it just made the memory of that awful moment even stronger. He opened them again and was horrified to find that sick feeling returning to burn at the backs of his eyes. He blinked them away and took a deep steadying breath.

"I didn't know you cared," Ed said, sounding a little nonplussed despite his breathlessness.

"There was never a time I didn't care…"

Ed took a sharp breath, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, and…dissolved into coughing.

Running over to the door, Roy called for a nurse. Someone looked up at him before scurrying off. Roy turned and hurried back to Ed.

"Now's…a great…great time for you…to tell me…"

"Just heal," Roy told him. "Just heal. I'll tell you that and more soon. For now, just heal so I can."

Ed gave him a considering look and then grinned as Nurse Roberts bustled in. "You'd better…Bastard…" he said, and then dissolved into coughing again.

Roy didn't know whether to cheer in happiness, cry in relief, or start to worry again. In the end, he simply watched as Roberts set to work taking care of Ed.

It was a few days before Ed was up to any meaningful conversation, and not simply because of the drugs he was pumped full of regularly. Though those did deserve the majority of the credit. When Ed wasn't sleeping, he was usually hovering just close to it. Roy suspected the hospital knew of Edward's unfortunate hatred of the hospital and had taken steps to prevent his ranting on the subject.

The few times Ed was awake and clear-headed, though, there was usually someone else in the room. A doctor, another visitor, the nurse… It had gotten to the point that Roy despaired of ever finding time alone with him.

Finally, the day came for Ed to be released from the hospital. He was under strict orders not to excite or exert himself in any way, but he was free to go. Roy had booked the first train back to Central for them both, a private compartment for the two heroes of the South City Rout as it was being called now. If he was going to have any chance to say what he wanted, it would be then. Roy only hoped it wouldn't end as badly as he knew it could.

They had lowered the dosage of Ed's medication a couple days before, but he still tired quite easily. The doctor said that was normal given his injury and the amount of medication he was still on. It worried Roy, though. Ed was usually a force of nature, as powerful as the sun. What power could possibly smother the sun?

Roy could only think of one, and that thought still scared him.

"I can walk out of here," Ed growled at Armstrong, dragging Roy's attention back to the present.

"Edward…" Armstrong said, looking as though his boundless patience was finally about to snap as he struggled to keep Ed in his wheelchair.

"Let him wheel you out," Roy said wearily. "Or we could always detach your leg?"

Ed shot him a glare that left Roy in no doubt at all what the younger man thought of _that_ suggestion. He eyes were slitted into lines of glittering gold that were bracketed by dark, dark lashes. His hair was down, his tie having been lost and a new one never found, and it framed his face, giving him a feral look that Roy associated more with a wildcat than a man. Still, Roy had to admit the look fit Edward perfectly.

"It's only for a little while," Roy said with a soft smirk. "You're not quite out of the woods yet, you know. The doctor said you could have a relapse if you didn't rest and stay off your feet as much as possible."

Ed snorted his opinion of that.

Sighing, Roy added, "And I will tell Al everything as soon as we meet up with him in Central. What do you think he'll say to your endangering your health?"

Ed shot Roy another glare, but this one held a slight bit of fear as well as hot anger.

"You wouldn't dare! Al doesn't need to worry about me now! He has too much to do! His own life to live, now he's no longer armor!"

Roy's smirk grew. "I'll only be reporting to him. I wouldn't want him turning that infamous Elric anger on me. He may no longer be seven feet tall, but he's still just as dangerous when he's angry."

"Hah! The great General Mustang's scared of a kid," Ed laughed, grinning that cocky Edward Elric grin that Roy had come to love so much.

Roy smirked at him before nodding at Armstrong.

"Alright then, Edward, time to get in the car," Armstrong said as he lifted Ed out of the chair.

Ed squeaked and scrambled for purchase for the brief seconds it took to transfer of to the car.

"You could have warned me," Ed accused them with a renewed scowl. Roy was concerned to note his voice was breathless again.

"I'm sorry," he apologized truthfully. "We will next time."

"Just let me walk! It'll be better for everyone!"

"No. I believe we just had this discussion," Roy answered with a sigh.

He shut the door before Ed could reply and walked around the car to climb in next to Ed.

Before long, the wheelchair was packed in the car and they were off. The streets were still relatively empty of traffic after the battle, but they still had to contend with navigating the enormous damage that had been physically dealt to the pavement as well as the many repair and military vehicles that littered their path. It only took a few minutes though, and then they were in front of the train station.

Thankfully, Ed was seemingly too busy scowling at the front entrance that was lined with the town's reporters to bother with trying to get out by himself.

"You're not really going to make me go through that crowd in a wheelchair like an invalid, are you?"

Ed turned to pin Roy under as pleading a stare as Roy had ever seen on him. For a moment, Roy nearly caved to those large eyes, but then he remembered the doctor's stern warnings.

"I'm sorry, Edward," he said softly. "But I can't let anything happen to you again. Your pride's not worth your life."

Ed growled and turned around again. "Bastard."

Shrugging, Roy nodded. He didn't mind being a bastard so much in this case. He had too much to lose. _Ed _had too much to lose.

Armstrong opened the door and leaned in to pick Ed up and carry him out. His face was sympathetic even as he shifted to determinedly block the flashbulbs of the cameras behind him.

"Wait," Roy said just as Armstrong began to gather up a scowling and snarling Ed. "Let him get out on his own. Just help him out and then help him into the chair." Roy shot Ed his sternest look, one that no one ever questioned. "And you let him help you."

Ed looked surprised yet grateful for a moment before his customary scowl took its place on his face. "Whatever. Come on."

Thankfully, all went well after that, with Ed seeming to take the compromise with grace that was uncommon for him. As soon as he had been settled into his chair, Roy got out of the car and circled around to stand next to Ed. A sergeant stepped forward from the crowd and took hold of the chair handles while another took the keys from Armstrong.

They managed to navigate through into the station with relative ease, though it took Armstrong's ripping off his shirt to gift a horrified crowd of reporters an excellent viewing of his pectorals. The train was a little harder—it was simply not made for wheelchairs. And with Armstrong still tormenting the horde out front, Roy was left with only the option of allowing Ed to walk with his help.

By the time they were in the cabin, Ed was panting.

"Dammit! That wasn't…that far!"

"Your lung is still healing," Roy told him. "Remember?"

"Wasn't…a direct hit!"

Roy sighed and shook his head.

"No, but it was close enough. Now just sit still and control your breathing like the doctor showed you."

"You just don't want me dying on your watch," Ed said, his voice still breathless. He gave Roy a smirk. "Too much paperwork."

Roy didn't say anything for a minute, debating what was safe to say just then, and then settled on, "No, I don't think I could take you dying on me at all."

Ed stared at him, shock plain on his face by the wide-eyed expression he wore. He opened his mouth as though to say something a couple times, but then shut it again without having said anything.

The door swung open and a corporal saluted them.

"Sirs! Everything is on board and ready for your trip. Will you be needing anything else?"

Roy looked over at Ed in askance, but the other man had turned his stare out the window. He turned back to the corporal.

"Not at the moment, Corporal. We'll let you know if we need anything."

The corporal nodded and, with a final glance between them, saluted before backing out of the compartment. The door slid shut with a clatter and a bang.

They spent the next hour or so in silence. The train started up and rumbled down the track, rocking them gently as it went. The countryside passed by in a green and brown blur, with the occasional grey where they crossed over a street. Edward never glanced away from the window, all his attention apparently on his own thoughts.

Finally, without turning away from where he stared out the window, Ed asked, "Why did you say that?"

Roy glanced over at him, startled from his own thoughts.

"You were so worried about me… I saw those tears in your eyes when I first woke up. And you were there constantly. Why? You don't feel guilty for my saving your life or something, do you? Because it's not like I don't already owe you it a hundred times over."

"What? What do you mean you owe me your life?" Roy scowled at Ed. What could he be talking about? "You don't owe me anything!"

Ed finally turned his gaze on him, giving Roy a look that plainly took his intelligence into question. "Of course I do! You gave me and Al a chance! Got me into the military and protected us at the same time! Sent us after leads for the Stone and saved me in how many other ways? I may not always act like it, but I noticed! And I'm…" Ed stumbled to a stop, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed. "And I'm grateful for it."

For a moment, Roy found his voice had disappeared. He stared dumbstruck at Ed, wondering if he'd just heard what he'd thought he'd heard. But the embarrassed scowl on the younger man's face told him otherwise. He had heard correctly.

"You don't owe me anything. I should have found another way to help you—shouldn't have put you in harm's way so often. But I was so damned determined—" Roy cut himself off with his own frustrated growl. "I should have gotten you out of the military long before this. Then you wouldn't have even been here to have gotten hurt."

"No, you'd be dead instead."

"Better than you," Roy growled with more vehemence than he'd meant. He looked away afterwards with a scowl, not trusting himself to speak again.

"Why?" Roy looked back at Ed again. "Why do you value the life of a lowly major so much? I know I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist, and I know I'm one of your team and you always take care of your team, but this seems… Would you be like this if it were Havoc or Hawkeye in my place?"

Roy closed his eyes and shook his head. He was terrified of Ed's reaction, but he no longer had it in him to lie. Not about this. "No… I wouldn't be."

"Then why? Why me?"

Ed's voice was kept carefully neutral, but Roy could hear faint strands of pleading in it. Ed was scared he wouldn't be honest, and Roy had a feeling Ed needed Roy's honesty as much as Roy needed to be honest. That, more than anything, finally gave him the courage to speak.

Roy opened his eyes and stared into Ed's, feeling pinned beneath the sharp gaze suddenly.

"I-I thought—When you were—Out on the battlefield, when that chimera speared you, all I could think of was how you were dying in my arms and I'd never told you…"

Roy took another deep breath, but all the fancy words and phrases he'd thought of for this stayed frustratingly out of reach of his memory.

"Your hair… Your eyes… You—You're brilliant and wonderful and as beautiful as you are determined. You're kind and generous, though you can be selfish and egotistical too, and even sometimes too quick-tempered, but you're loyal to a fault to those you love. I look at you and—and—

"I love you."

For several long moments, Ed continued staring at him. Roy felt his stomach sink further and further while the bile in his throat rose higher and higher with each passing second. Then finally, a bright, happy smile flashed over Ed's face, blinding Roy with its brilliance.

"Good! Just remember that the next time you get mad at me," Ed said, happiness nearly radiating from him like warmth from an oven.

And then he was leaning forward as he simultaneously tugged Roy to him.

Roy stayed still in shock as Ed's lips finally pressed to his. Then Ed's tongue darted out to lick over Roy's lips in a request for entrance and Roy finally answered. He opened his mouth and met Ed's tongue with his own, proceeding to show Ed everything he knew about kissing. From the low moans and appreciative murmurs Roy received over the rest of the train ride as he periodically resumed his exhibition, Ed thought him quite satisfactory. In fact, he took to it with such passion and enthusiasm as to rival his devotion to his alchemy.

As the train finally pulled into Central Station that night, Ed was curled up in Roy's arms with a happy smile on his face. And when the train finally rolled to a stop, he whispered in a low voice that made Roy's heart skip a beat, "Love you too, Bastard."


End file.
